Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume One Read online



  AMANDA MARTIN

  TWO-HUNDRED STEPS HOME

  VOLUME ONE

  Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds University she wandered around the world trying to find her place in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand, including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist, before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle Kara and can mostly be found at https://writermummy.wordpress.com or on Twitter or Facebook.

  Two-Hundred Steps Home is her latest work. Amanda is writing the novel in daily instalments on her WriterMummy blog as part of her 2013 365 post-a-day challenge. This ebook is Volume 1 and contains the first 31 instalments.

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © Amanda Martin 2013

  Amanda Martin asserts the moral right to be

  identified as the author of this work

  Also by Amanda Martin:

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 2

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 3

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 4

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 5

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 6

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 7

  Two-Hundred Steps Home: Volume 8

  Dragon Wraiths

  Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction although based loosely on the YHA Hostels of England and Wales. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  https://www.amanda-martin.co.uk

  https://writermummy.wordpress.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title

  Copyright

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Follow the Blog

  About the Author

  ONE

  “Claire, could you come into my office for a quick chat?”

  Claire looked up from the stack of artwork on her desk and resisted the urge to frown, knowing it would leave creases in her foundation.

  “Sure Carl, now?”

  “Yes please,” he said over his shoulder as he headed back to his own, larger, glass cube on the other side of the office.

  Intrigued that he hadn't sent Julia or phoned through his summons, Claire slipped on her heels, pulled on her jacket and headed after her boss.

  “Come in, sit down, would you like a drink?”

  Carl was already seated when Claire scratched on his door and opened it.

  “Earl Grey please, black, no sugar,” Claire said as she lowered herself onto the black leather chair, glad she was wearing tights.

  Carl pressed a button on his desk. “Earl Grey and an espresso please Jules.”

  Carl shuffled the paper on his desk and didn't look up. “How's the Birds Eye piece coming together?”  

  Claire looked at the bald patch starting to appear on Carl's crown and answered in a monotone. “Fine. No dramas.”

  “And the Vodafone ad?”

  “Shooting next week.”

  “Right.” Carl took an audible breath.

  Just spit it out, Claire thought as she watched the words fighting to be released from his mouth.

  “The Board would like you to hand over your existing clients to Steve.”

  Claire sat forward. She hadn't been expecting that. Aware of her movement she immediately sat back and looked sardonically at Carl.

  “Am I being fired?”

  “No,” he said quickly, “of course not. You're one of our best Account Directors. No, think of it more as a change of direction. We've secured a new deal with Happy Cola.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows before dropping them quickly. Coke? That was a big deal.

  “They're sponsoring the YHA.”

  “The what?”

  “Youth Hostel Association.”

  Claire looked blankly for a minute, not making the connection. Then her brain kicked in. “That doesn’t seem a likely combination - isn’t youth hostelling all about being healthy and the great outdoors. Not something you associate with Happy Cola.”

  “That’s the point. After the Olympics they want to improve their healthy image. They’ve decided a year’s sponsorship of the YHA will improve the perception of their brand in the UK.”

  “So I’m getting that account? It doesn’t mean I have to hand over all my other deals, surely? Even someone as big as Coke must understand they’re not our only client.”

  “Of course not. Actually you won’t be managing the account, I will.”

  Claire felt her heartbeat begin to speed up. Something wasn’t right. Carl was looking shifty and he never looked shifty. It was as if he was bracing himself.

  “So, come on then, what am I going to be doing?”

  “Um. You’re going to be staying in the hostels.”

  “What?” Claire nearly stood up but remembered at the last minute to relax back into her chair. Stay in control, Claire, don’t let him get to you.

  “The bigwigs want someone on the ground, living the hostelling dream. They want someone to visit all the hostels during the year of promotion, to feedback stories on Twitter and Facebook, you know how it goes.”

  “Why can't you send one of the interns?” Claire could hear her voice sounded higher than usual. She swallowed and took some deep breaths.

  “Polly and Molly have finals this year and Sally has a cat.”

  Claire looked incredulously at Carl, then over his head through the glass wall of the office.

  “What about Julia, she looks like she could use a holiday.”

  “This is not a holiday and my PA is indispensable.”

  “And I'm not?”

  Their eyes clashed and fought before Carl smiled and leaned forward across his desk. “Come on Claire, be reasonable. Think of it as an adventure.”

  “You want me to go and sleep in bug-infested bunk-beds in the same room as a bunch of smelly, over-sexed, students for a whole year? You must be mad.” She looked around the office as if seeking something to help her escape. The office was bare except for some piece of modern art and a photograph of Carl’s inexplicably beautiful wife.

  “No Claire,” Carl said in a quiet voice. Claire turned to face him, her pulse beating loudly in her ears. Like any predator, Carl was at his most dangerous when he was silent. Forcing herself to meet his eyes she saw the glint in them and swallowed. Carl didn't frighten her; she'd been around too long and knew she was good at her job. Even so she felt her palms getting clammy as Carl stared at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.

  “Who did I offend?” Claire could hear the resignation in her voice. Resignation, was that her only option?

  “No one my dear. Think of it more as an initiation challenge.”

  It was Claire's turn to raise an eyebrow. This was u
nexpected.

  “The Board feel you have potential but they're not convinced of your loyalty, to them or to our clients. Think of this as a sabbatical to consider your next career move.”

  “Up or out?” Claire suggested, her lips twisting sarcastically.

  “Well I wouldn't put it quite so crudely but yes, as usual, you have encapsulated the essence in a pithy one-liner. That's why you're such a valuable member of the team.”

  Right, thought Claire as she stalked back to her office. What a load of crap.

  ***

  TWO

  Back at her desk, Claire resisted the urge to put her head in her hands. Living in a glass office surrounded by advertising people had taught her self-control in a way her parents’ strictures on The Correct Way to Behave in Public never had. She had risen through the ranks quickly since arriving at AJC and that generally made people want to find out a person’s weaknesses.

  Claire looked out through her glass wall at the Account Managers and Execs working hard at their desks. She could see Julia in close conversation with one of the other PAs. The sight made Claire’s stomach twist and she looked away. There was no doubt Julia had a fair idea what had been said in Carl’s office. PAs knew everything.

  Besides, I saw the surreptitious look of glee she threw my way when she brought in the drinks. No doubt it's all round the Company that I'm being demoted or forced out.

  It was that, and only that, preventing Claire from typing her resignation letter and storming back over to Carl's office. I could get another position by 5pm, she thought as she stared impassively at her computer screen, tapping in random letters while her mind churned at eighty-words-per-minute. But what reputation would follow me? I’d forever be the person who quit on the Happy Cola account. What would the gossips say? That I couldn't hack a bit of dirt and hard work?

  Advertising and Marketing was a closed group. Every day Claire ran into someone from a previous life - a boss, an underling-come-good, a client or supplier. She’d seen former lowly execs become Account Directors or move client-side and become Marketing Directors. You couldn’t be rude to anyone, no matter how much you ached to.

  Claire gazed out the window at the city view, or what she could see of it. Manchester in February was a miserable place. It rained. When it stopped raining all you could see were more rainclouds building up on the Pennines. Not that she spent much time outside. The rain was a great excuse to drive the five minutes to work or to the shops from her city-centre apartment. When she wasn’t at the office or with clients she was tucked up warm in the latest wine bar or boutique.

  No, the rain wasn’t a problem. Her thoughts dragged her unwillingly back over the last few months, filling her mind with unwelcome images. Pictures of Christmas and New Year flashed through her head like a TV review programme. Forced to give them attention for the first time, Claire realised they didn’t make happy viewing. She pushed the images away and looked back out at the rain.

  Maybe it would be good to get out of Manchester for a while.

  ***

  THREE

  Claire’s heart thumped beneath her gold heart pendant as she saw the email in her inbox. Carl had been quiet about her new assignment for a day or two and things had gone on as normal. Well, as normal as it got in AJC. Steve had filled her diary with meetings to discuss the accounts he was due to take over but, as he was away on a three-day conference, the meetings weren’t until the following week. Hoping the conversation in Carl’s office would go away like an unwelcome case of acne, Claire had continued with preparation for the Vodafone shoot and the Birds Eye’s Press Ads.

  Claire looked at the email subject line and felt her hand quiver as it hovered over the track-pad on her laptop. Just click Open and find out the worst. Her hand shook for a moment more before she dragged the cursor over the email link and clicked.

  The email was terse, as Carl’s often were.

  Details of your assignment. Julia will sort the details. You start 1st March.

  Good luck.

  Carl.

  She could imagine Carl sitting laughing at his desk as he wrote the words. Good Luck indeed. Bastard. She opened the attachment and was surprised to see it was only a single page with Happy Cola and YHA logos at the top. Scanning through the words quickly she saw that the brief had been prepared by Carl’s boss, the top man himself.

  So Carl wasn’t talking complete crap when he said this came from the Board. Great.

  It didn’t make Claire feel any better to know that her sudden move had been decreed by the powers-that-be. In some ways if it had been Carl’s vindictive move she could have handled that better, found some way to get her own back or turn it to her advantage. Knowing that she had come to the attention of the Board made her skin prickle.

  Unable to avoid it any longer, Claire turned her attention to the actual brief.

  Assignment: To travel to each of the Youth Hostelling Association’s 200 hostels, located throughout England and Wales.

  Your assignment includes maintaining a blog to discuss reviews of the hostels, utilising social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter to inform Fans of amusing stories and anecdotes, and generally promoting the brands of Happy Cola and YHA.

  You will relinquish your company car and be given one more suited to your assignment. We will arrange for your apartment to be let and cover reasonable expenses, although you will be expected to stick within a backpacker’s budget (c. £20-£30 a day). You will continue to receive your normal salary and holiday entitlement.

  Your accommodation for your first two nights’ stay has been booked in the Northernmost Hostel at Berwick-Upon-Tweed for 1st and 2nd March. From that point on you will be expected to plan your own route and manage your own bookings.

  Your secondment is for one year, including your allotted holiday allowance. This means you will need to manage the length of your stay at each hostel, and your driving route from hostel to hostel, to ensure that you have visited each of the 200 hostels in that time.

  Claire’s mind reeled as she read and re-read the brief. A car more suited to my assignment? She thought lovingly of the charcoal grey Audi parked in the street below. Take my Audi away? And her apartment. Okay, it wasn’t really hers. Mortgages were for people with kids and dogs. Hers was rented, furnished and serviced. Her sleek steel kitchen was kept clean by a firm who came once a week. Still, it was uncomfortable to think of someone else living there.

  There was a hard knot in the centre of Claire’s brain and she knew the worries about her car and flat were skirting around the real issue. £20-£30 a day? That wasn’t going to buy more than an M&S sandwich, a couple of Starbucks and a takeaway noodles for dinner. Was she meant to pay for her hostel room and petrol out of that too? I’m not paying for it out of my salary, that’s for sure. If they’re going to make me do this I at least want to come out of it with something.

  Claire’s mind drifted to pictures of a fortnight’s holiday in the Maldives when the ordeal was over. She’d never had enough money left before, after maintaining her shoe-and-handbag habit, but a year living on expenses would leave her nicely in the black. Claire sat back in her chair and smiled suddenly. The brief didn’t say when she could take her holiday. There was nothing stopping her dossing around the country for a few weeks and then jetting off for white sandy beaches and bath-water-warm seas.

  Maybe things were looking up after all.

  ***

  FOUR

  “Claire, it’s Ruth.” Claire held back a sigh and walked into the kitchen to put the coffee machine on. A phone call from her sister was never over quickly.

  “Ruth, darling. How are you?” As she waited for her sister to start spilling forth her latest disaster, Claire mulled over how much to reveal about her new assignment. Her family would have to be told something, of course. Not that they ever came to visit, or called her home phone, or sent her letters. Still, it seemed only right to tell them she was moving out for twelve months. Tuning back in to the phon
e call, Claire realised she had missed some key information and tried to catch up with what her sister was talking about.

  “So the doctor said it was probably lack of sleep. You know Sky is a bad sleeper and her nightmares have been worse since she started Year Two.”

  Claire worked out that someone was poorly, but was unsure whether it was her sister or her niece. Probably Sky. Silly, spoiled, overly-dramatic child. As if having her father run off with her ballet teacher gives her an open-ended excuse to be a brat forever. Surely they outgrow that nonsense once they start school?

  Claire thought about her own schooling. Her parents had paid for the best, obviously, although Claire often wondered whether that was to ensure their three children didn’t hamper their lifestyle, rather than to give their off-spring a good start in life. The school had encouraged independence and character but had no time for tears and tantrums. Claire had learned quickly to work hard and stay out of trouble. More than could be said for Ruth. It had been a constant mortification to her parents that, while their first and third children both achieved academic success, Ruth only acquired notoriety.

  Ruth’s next sentence cut through Claire’s reminiscing like a knife through brie.

  “The tests are week after next. That’s why I’m calling. Is there any chance you could come and look after Sky? It’s half-term and most of her friends are going skiing. Of course we can’t afford that…”

  Claire inhaled deeply and forced herself not to rise to the bait. Ruth was always poor and begrudged Claire her success. Claire accepted that looking after a child on your own probably hampered your career options, but look at J.K. Rowling, it hadn’t held her back. She was convinced Ruth could help herself if only she’d try harder. Claire's irritation at the badly-veiled hint nearly overshadowed the first part of the sentence, but not quite.

  “Have Sky? How long for? When?” Claire could hear panic in her voice and forced herself to breathe in through her nose. Once she was sure she was back in control of her emotions she said in a slow voice, “I start a new work assignment on 1st March, and I’ll … be on the road a lot. You know. Meeting clients.”